The Engineer was talking again.
"Such a solution," he was saying, "would be possible on a planet such as yours, where an atmosphere many miles in depth, composed of heavy gases, creates the pressures that you speak of. While we can create such pressures artificially, we could not create or maintain them outside the laboratory.”
"What the hell," asked Herb, "are they arguing about?”
"Shut up," hissed Gary, and the photographer lapsed into shamefaced silence.
The cold, cruel thought was arguing, trying to explain a point that Gary could only guess at. He looked at Caroline, wondering if she understood.
Her face was twisted into tiny lines of concentration.
The cold stream of thought had stopped and another thought broke in, a little piping thought. Perhaps, thought Gary, one of the little slug-like creatures in the glass cage.
Disgusting little things!
Gary looked at the mottled, droopy-eyed creature that squatted opposite him. It raised its head and in the beady eyes he imagined that he caught a glimmer of amusement.
"By the Lord," he said to himself, "he thinks it's funny, too.”